


Subtle Arts

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ariadne discovered she was being stalked, she turned to the team for help. She didn't expect any of what happened next.</p><p>For the  meme prompt in round 15: <a href="http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/17947.html?thread=39193627#t39193627">Someone's following Ariadne/sending her threats so for her protection the team insists that she stay with Arthur (him being the best at hand-to-hand and all) until the threat has been neutralized.</a> Fills the "loss of job" box on my <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/">hc_bingo</a> card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtle Arts

The note was composed of jagged letters and words cut out of newspaper and magazines, no fingerprints or witnesses around to identify who left it on Ariadne's doorstep. She had wound up setting up shop in Luxembourg after graduating from architecture school. It was nice and pretty, a sedate enough city with plenty for her to look at and do, yet close enough to major hubs so she could still fly all over the world helping in dream share.

Ariadne tucked her hair behind her ears, golden eyes scanning the street outside of her house. It was early, and her neighbors were all still asleep. She normally liked the early morning stillness for running before she got into the routine of her day. The note was sitting there, held down with a rock that had jagged edges. It was sharp, almost sharp enough to cut her thumb and make her bleed.

 _You BeLOnG to ME  
i wILL maKe yOu SEe thIs_

She brought everything inside of her house and locked the door. She was supposed to meet with Eames, Yusuf, Cobb and Arthur to work on a job, but now she was wondering if it would be safe to do so. How was she supposed to work in dream share with a stalker after her like this?

Putting the note and rock down on the table beside her door, she went to call the team. They would know what to do about this security risk.

***

Cobb arrived at Ariadne's house to take a look at the note that had been left behind. Eames was already out shadowing their potential subject and Arthur was up to his eyebrows in some kind of archive that would yield financial and legal entanglements for their subject. Yusuf was at the office suite they were renting, making sure everything there remained safe for the others to get back to. That had left Cobb to come to Ariadne and figure out the best avenue of approach.

He didn't say much when he saw the note, and merely sat down on her couch. Ariadne sat across from him and took in the drawn expression on his face. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Looking up at her, he didn't even deny it. The others were only working with him in dream share now because he promised to be up front with them. This unflinching honesty is what led him to move his family to Paris about a year after the Fischer job; he couldn't stay away longer than that, as architecture or office politics in the real world simply didn't matter to him anymore. He was good at what he did, and tried working with legal avenues within the dream share community for his children's sake. Professor Miles was helping him, Ariadne knew, and she understood the allure of dream share.

"This doesn't look good," he said finally. "It could be anything, not necessarily the job we're on, but..."

"But we can't be sure."

"Whoever it is, this person knows who you are and where you live. You're not safe here."

Ariadne's heart sank. She loved her little house, her neighbors, her job. This was the life she wanted to have, and now everything was being ripped out from under her. "The job..."

"I'll have to do the architecture," Cobb told her, finality in his tone. "We can't risk it."

If anything, that made her feel even worse. Dream share was out of the question for now, and if she wasn't safe, her legal office wouldn't be safe for her to go to either. Everything she had worked so hard to build for herself vanished in an instant. She was simultaneously furious and terrified, and hated feeling that way.

"Cobb..."

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Ariadne watched as he left a cryptic message, feeling cast adrift. He ended the call and looked at her, determination in his expression. It was the same look he'd had on the Fischer job, she realized. It was just odd to see it leveled at her for a change. "We'll protect you. You're one of ours, Ariadne. We'll keep you safe from whoever this is, I promise you."

She didn't doubt that, or that the others would help her. Ariadne simply nodded. It was easier to go along with what Cobb was saying and simply not think. Was this how he had felt when his contacts had told him to run and leave the children behind? Is this how it all started?

She felt like protesting, like saying _something._ But they had to assume that whoever this stalker was, the note was a threat. She was in danger, they simply didn't know how much.

***

Once night fell, three black sedans drove up in front of Ariadne's darkened house. A small bag was put into each car, and people moved back and forth between all three cars and the house. A tall man in black locked Ariadne's front door and nodded at the others. Three people drove away from the house.

If one of the drivers was a bit more slight and short leaving the house than entering it, it was difficult to tell in the dark.

***

Ariadne pulled off the wig, glued on facial hair and coat, revealing the pillow belted around her torso. She unbuckled it and put the pillow next to the duffel bag that held the bare necessities she would need while in hiding. It _burned_ to have to do this, but she had to be practical. Stalking cases didn't end well, and she had no idea if and when this stalker would escalate.

The rest of the team had conferred amongst themselves prior to helping Ariadne escape. Eames still had to shadow the subject and the eventual forgery target. Yusuf knew how to defend himself and had a wide network of contacts in Mombasa, but he didn't have the same pull in Europe. The consensus had been that Arthur should be the one to protect Ariadne while Cobb tried to get information regarding Ariadne's coworkers, in case this was mundane and had nothing to do with her involvement in their current dream share job.

"You're okay," Arthur told her, concern etched onto his features. He touched her shoulder when she didn't respond right away, lips turned down at the corners. "We're going to figure this out, Ariadne. You'll be safe."

"I'm stuck here in the meantime," she said in a low tone. "I can't work, I can't go out, I can't do anything."

Arthur sat down beside her and held her hand tightly in his. She looked down at their twined fingers, remembering Cobb telling her that Arthur was the best at hand to hand and close combat techniques if it came down to it. They had to use the skills available to them, and as point man, Arthur's job was to keep them all safe. It rankled that Ariadne was relegated to being a job when she could no longer work herself, when she was so used to being independent. Her family had been small and not very affectionate, and she had left home at eighteen. She had been on her own since then, making it all work out on her own. She hadn't needed to depend on anyone at all, and now she was being forced to. It was uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

"You're not a victim," Arthur said, steel underneath his tone. "It's probably what you're feeling now, and that's the point of stalking someone. But I know that's not you, and you're better than that. Once we make sure this stalker is not a viable threat, everything goes back to the way things were."

Ariadne looked up, a cool expression on her face. "Doesn't that make me a victim, then? I'm dependent on all of you and your good will to be safe. There isn't anything I can do to help, nothing but sit and wait. Sounds like a victim to me."

Arthur shook his head. "In my book, sitting there whining and complaining and not doing anything to help save yourself makes you a victim. You're taking the necessary precautions to be safe. You're taking this seriously and not dismissing this threat. That's what is going to keep you alive." His other hand cupped her face gently, thumb across her chin in a gentle stroke. The move surprised her, and her breath froze in her chest. Suddenly all she could think about was that fleeting kiss on the Fischer job, a kiss that had never been repeated or followed up on. There hadn't been time, and she had assumed that he hadn't wanted it.

But what if she was wrong about that?

"I'll let you sleep," Arthur said softly. "I'll be up going through databases and e-mailing contacts, so I'll be keeping watch over you."

"Thank you, Arthur," Ariadne said in an equally hushed tone. "Good night."

The look in his eyes was fond and she wondered if there was more to it. He bid her good night and vanished into his bedroom to do work. She was staying in his office, which was secure and windowless. No one would know she was there, and no one in her real world job would ever connect her to Arthur.

She was as good as missing, with no one in her life but the dream share team knowing what had become of her. Ariadne should have felt sad about that, or worried about what would happen to her. Instead, this was the safest she had ever felt in her life.

She didn't want to think about what that might mean.

***

Ariadne woke up disoriented and with the vague sensation that she had a nightmare. The first thing she remembered was getting a letter and the overwhelming oppression that came with the idea that someone was out there stalking her. The room was dark and didn't have windows, so the first thing she thought of was that her stalker had gotten to her, that he had found her and locked her away and she was never going to see anyone she cared about ever again.

Reaching out around her in the dark, she found nothing familiar. A lamp crashed to the floor, and Ariadne cringed. She was hyperventilating, her fingertips going numb. She was getting dizzy as her fear of the unknown rose all around her. What did he want from her? Was he going to kill her?

The lights snapped on and Ariadne let out a little shriek of terror before she could stop herself. She blinked rapidly to readjust her vision to the brightly lit room, and then everything crashed down around her as she took in Arthur kneeling in front of her. He was in sleep pants and nothing else, his hair all mussed and his jaw roughly stubbled. She had obviously woken him from sleep, and he seemed exhausted. She had no idea what time it was.

She found herself nearly sobbing when Arthur pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're safe, Ariadne," he murmured, face pressed against the side of her head. "I will _never_ let anyone hurt you. _Never."_

She wanted to ask why it mattered, why he should care what happened to her. Was it simply because he thought of her skills as too useful to lose? Or could it be something more? Ariadne couldn't imagine Arthur doing this for just anyone. What made her so special?

"Arthur," she whispered, clutching at his shoulders. She closed her eyes and simply absorbed the warmth of him as he held her. This was real. It wasn't the dreams or the feeling of being smothered. "What if he never goes away?"

If anything, his arms tightened even further around her. "This will work. You _will_ be safe, Ariadne." He pulled back far enough for him to look her in the eye. "I'm going to make sure of it. No one is ever going to hurt you."

The intensity of his gaze and the fervent tone in his voice took her breath away. She could only stare at him with wide eyes, not sure what to say in response. What _could_ she say in response?

Arthur cupped her face in his hand when she remained silent. "Will you be able to sleep tonight?"

Yes. No. Who the hell knew? Her heart was beating triple time, but it was as much from his contact as it was the thought that her stalker was out there somewhere. "I don't know," she said finally, voice sounding hoarse. "The dark... I'm not afraid of it, but I panicked."

He nodded, then pulled her to her feet. "Come on. You can stay with me for a few hours, then. We'll figure something out in the morning."

Ariadne was surprised by Arthur's offer to have her stay in his room with him, but it was comfortable and dark without being pitch black. She had lost her night vision, so she couldn't make out much detail. Arthur tucked her into bed beside him and let her snuggle in and settle herself to sleep. There were no further nightmares or panic attacks.

***

Ariadne woke up curled around Arthur, her face pressed against his chest. He was still asleep, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly. There was a slight crust around the edge of his mouth, indicating that he had drooled sometime in the night after they had gone to sleep. She couldn't help but smile at that detail, finding it endearing instead of disgusting. He was so unguarded in sleep, and there was that perfect sense of trust that she wouldn't harm him in any way. Of course, on the heels of that thought came the worry that he was so deeply asleep that someone could break in and get them. That thought was proved wrong when his eyes snapped open as soon as she shifted position in his arms.

Arthur's gaze softened. "Hey."

"Hey." It was silly to feel shy, given that she has worked with Arthur on several occasions now, and he had always been helpful and supportive.

He smiled softly. "How are you feeling? You slept better."

"I feel safe," Ariadne murmured. "It wasn't a nightmare, exactly, but I panicked when I couldn't see anything."

Arthur nodded. "You're used to taking care of everything, and now it's all out of control."

"Exactly."

He got up slowly, disentangling their limbs gently. Yawning, he stretched and rubbed at his mouth. "You can take the first shower while I get coffee ready. I don't have much for breakfast, maybe cereal or toast. I usually just get something on the way in. I'll need to get whatever you usually like for mornings."

That reinforced the fact that she couldn't go anywhere just yet, not until they knew what was going on. She was stuck in Arthur's flat, and suddenly it felt as though everything was closing in around her again. Ariadne forced herself to breathe evenly as she pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Toast is fine. I have that or eggs in the morning before going in. I had the beginnings of the level built..."

His frustrated sigh caught her attention. "I know, but it's not safe to have you going in and out in case someone was watching the office. None of the others know where I live, so you're definitely safe here."

Ariadne blinked. "None of them do?"

He shook his head. "I go to different cafes or fast food places in the morning and I take different routes to and from this apartment. There's no way to track me here, so this is definitely the safest place for you until we know what we're dealing with. At this point, I'd rather deal with Cobb's levels than risk your safety even one bit."

There was a tightness in Ariadne's chest that had nothing to do with feeling trapped. She wasn't sure if she was gaping at Arthur, but she felt as if she had been hit upside the head by his admission. She had no idea about the way he felt, or if she was reading too much into his statements. But it was looking as though his feelings toward her were not as platonic as she had thought. Yes, he had kissed her during the Fischer job, but he'd never spoken of it again or made any kind of passes. She thought she had sent out signals in the first few months after that job, but he'd never responded. She had then assumed that he had really been trying to distract projections, and that his work ethic was paramount to relationships. Maybe she was wrong about that after all.

"Arthur..." she began, eyes wide. Ariadne wasn't sure what she was going to say, but Arthur turned away and got out of bed. "I'll help however I can."

He looked back at her, a pleased tilt to his lips that was his usual sort of smile at work. "I know you will. I never doubted that."

When he left the room, Ariadne flopped back on the bed and sighed deeply. She inhaled the scent of Arthur, feeling a sense of calm come over her. This was a weird situation to be sure, but there were some definite benefits to being trapped with Arthur.

***

The next few days slid together, though Ariadne was mostly bored. She went through Arthur's closets and dressers in his absence, read his books and perused his movies. He brought her sketchbooks and whatever books she requested, as well as others he thought she might like. It was a thoughtful gesture, one that Ariadne appreciated. In the evening, she curled up in his bed to sleep. Attempting to return to his office space to sleep had still resulted in near panic.

He left a PASIV in the office one morning. "So you can at least feel like you can go out," Arthur told her, lips curling into a knowing smile. "I have a few ideas, and we're looking into them." Arthur didn't specify what the ideas were about, or if those ideas were for the job or her stalker. Ariadne let it go, knowing that Arthur only liked discussing things once he had all of the details ironed out and ready to present.

Ariadne soon felt the familiar tug of the somnacin dragging her into sleep. She didn't have anything in mind when she fell into the dream. She recognized that it was the unfinished level she had been working on the week before. The buildings were crudely done by her own standards, not enough detail to hold them together to feel real enough. There was a stillness in the air around her, projections walking back and forth without purpose and without any acknowledgment of her presence. With a sigh, she began to wander throughout the level, tilting her face up to feel the dream's sun beating down on her. It was easy enough to firm up the details, flesh out the buildings and shift things until it felt more comfortable.

The timer ran down and she simply woke in Arthur's office, sprawled across the couch and staring at the ceiling. She could hear the intermittent hum of the printer and the distant sound of the refrigerator kicking on. Afternoons of nothing, nothing and more nothing.

She set more time on the PASIV and hit the red button.

This time, she was sitting on the beach, the endless waves of the sea in front of her. Luxembourg was a landlocked country full of forests and castles and rolling green countryside. This was more like the trip to Monaco she had made with friends after completing a particularly nasty course at school. She could smell the salt of the sea and feel the breeze flutter across her cheeks, sending her hair flying. Looking down at herself, she was in a teal tank suit that accentuated the fact that she wasn't nearly as curvy as most of her projections were. She wasn't exactly boyish either, but she wished she had Eames' skill at forgery. It might be nice to have voluptuous curves and draw male attention. Maybe that was what kept Arthur away? Maybe it wasn't just work duties but the fact that she didn't conform to his physical type. There was nothing she could really do about that now or in the real world.

It didn't matter at the moment, anyway. Ariadne ran across the beach, feeling the sun on her limbs and the sand between her toes. It was warm and the water was cold when she dove into it, but this wasn't Arthur's apartment and she didn't feel nearly as locked in.

Someone looking like Arthur was sitting on the beach when she got out of the water. "Hey," he said with a smile. He was wearing linen slacks and a white button down shirt that was open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. His arms were slung carelessly over his knees, and his hair didn't have as much pomade in it as he usually put in. "Great weather."

Ariadne sat down beside him on a towel that was suddenly in her hand. She returned his smile. Figured she would have a projection of him that still dressed well. "You weren't going to go swim?" she asked, flicking water at him playfully.

Arthur laughed and made swatting motions with his hands. "I never did learn how to swim."

"How about I teach you?" she asked, grinning at him. This had to be a projection, though she would have thought her projection of him was invincible and knowledgeable about everything. Not knowing how to swim made him downright normal.

He thought it over for half a second. "Okay."

Suddenly in swim trunks, the two headed back toward the water. Ariadne focused on teaching him to float first, then moved on to some simple moves. If her hands trailed over his arms and torso, it wasn't really happening. It was just a dream, just playing around with her projection. He wasn't objecting, and why would he? This was all in Ariadne's head, and she might have thought about this one time too many over the past week.

"You like touching me," Arthur commented as they climbed out of the water.

"Are you objecting?" Ariadne countered, a smile on her face. "Because it's looking like you're not." There was evidence of how little he was opposed to her touch, and she pointed at it brazenly, making him laugh along with her.

"You're beautiful and touching me while wearing barely anything at all," Arthur replied, pulling her down to their towels on the beach. "Of course I'm not objecting."

Ariadne tumbled down on top of him, and she could feel his erection pressing up against her as she straddled his waist. As her laughter died down a bit, she leaned forward impulsively and kissed him on the mouth. Arthur pulled her down on top of him, hands caressing her back. She let out a happy little sound as they kissed, her tongue touching the seam of his lips. "We should have done this before," she murmured against his mouth.

"At least it's happening now."

"Very true." Ariadne curled up on top of his chest, listening to his heart beat steadily under her ear. "Funny how it's always some kind of threat that makes you think about things like this. Otherwise it might stretch out forever."

He wound a hand through her hair. "You're going to be safe, Ariadne. I promise you."

Of course her projection would say something like this. The real Arthur said it often enough. She simply nodded and let him hold her, stroking her back and arms. She was hesitant to push it any farther just yet. Would sex with her own projection be some kind of creepy masturbation? Or would it be more like actual sex? She didn't know, and she wasn't about to ask any of the others out of curiosity. She would never live it down if she did.

The timer ran out somewhere amidst the tender caresses and kisses they shared. Ariadne let out a soft sigh, disappointed that it was over and she was back in the real world again. No more Arthur to kiss and touch. Now it was back to worries and concerns about her uncertain future. She pushed herself to a seated position, intending to slide the needle out.

Arthur was waking up beside her, drawing the needle out of his arm.

"Oh," she murmured dumbly. He hadn't been a projection at all. He had been very, very real, and they had actually cuddled and kissed and joked about going farther.

He rose to his knees and knelt in front of her, then carefully took the needle from her wrist. "I've got you," he murmured, looking up at her. His eyes were dark and swirling with desire, just as they had in the dream. "I've got you," he repeated. "You probably just sat up too fast. It's been a while since you've been under."

She waited until he had discarded the needles in the sharps container of the suitcase before tumbling to the floor and kissing him on the mouth. She didn't even stop to think what she was doing, that perhaps he was just humoring her. Arthur's arms came to encircle her, just as they had in the dream, and then he was rolling her beneath him on the floor. He was a solid presence against her body, lean frame pressing down on hers heavily. "Arthur," she gasped, not sure what she was going to say. _I thought you were my projection_ sounded lame and pathetic, and it didn't really matter now, did it? He knew what she wanted as clear as day, and he seemed to want the same thing.

One of his hands moved from her back to her front, caressing a breast through her shirt. Ariadne gasped, arching into his touch as she grasped his shoulders. He deepened the kiss as she gasped, tongue sliding into her mouth to touch hers. _Yes,_ she wanted to tell him. _Finally._

It wasn't a conscious decision to start stripping clothing, but it was done with an urgency that couldn't be denied. It was as if all of the teasing from the dream layer had hit them all at once, and they were simply waiting for reality to act on it. Arthur kissed his way down her stomach as he bared it, pulling off her jeans and underwear. They caught and bunched, and Ariadne had to lift her hips and help push them off. The calm grace he usually possessed was gone, and he dipped his mouth between her legs as if that was the only thing he needed to survive. He gripped her hip with one hand and ran the other across her side, pushing her shirt up. Ariadne grasped it and pulled it up over her head as best as she could, her teeth knocking together as she yanked it off. She twisted a little, shaking the sleeve from her hand, gasping as the sensation of his tongue over her folds threatened to overwhelm her.

Arthur slid one of her legs over his shoulder and ran his tongue inside of her, then slipped a finger in as he moved to take her clit between his lips. Ariadne bucked against him, moaning. Her leg moved restlessly across his back and she grasped at the back of his head with one hand. She grabbed her own breast with the other, rubbing at the nipple and pulling slightly as she moved. She was saying nonsensical encouraging things, urging him on because it felt good, this was happening, it wasn't a dream and it was _Arthur,_ and he had wanted her just as much as she had wanted him.

He kissed his way up her abdomen once she came, licking and nipping at her skin. One hand crept up to cup her free breast and play with her nipple. He hadn't missed the way she had touched herself, and now he was mimicking the movement. Then he was hard and thick inside her, moving slowly at first to draw out all the sensation. "More," she gasped, moving her hands down his back and grasping his ass to pull him in deeper. She lifted her knees, widening her legs a little. Arthur moved faster, lower lip between his teeth as he fought to maintain control. "Arthur," she gasped, arching up into him.

"I don't have anything," he ground out finally. "I'm trying not to..."

"I trust you," she whispered, running her nails across his lower back. Arthur shuddered at that, obviously liking the contact.

"I won't last," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight. "I can't..." Abruptly he pulled out and a moment later spilled across her stomach. He groaned, nearly breaking the skin of his lower lip. "God, Ariadne..."

She reached for him and stroked his stomach with a smile. "So you weren't prepared for this?" she teased. He laughed, a little embarrassed at that comment. "The next time will be better, then, right?" She grinned at his gobsmacked expression. "I'm not giving this up for anything."

He leaned down and kissed her, tongue sliding into her mouth.

Ariadne couldn't help but think that at least something positive was coming out of this experience.

***

"What's going on with the stalker situation?" Ariadne asked Arthur, feeling antsy. It was better for her state of mind to know what he was doing, even if she felt helpless since she couldn't actually _do_ anything to help. She hated being sidelined with nothing to do. She couldn't work, couldn't help, couldn't do much more than slowly go stir crazy or have her fantasies of more sex with Arthur while he was out doing whatever it was that he had to do as point man.

"I have security on your house watching it," he told her. They were lying on the floor of his living room, the PASIV between them. He had suggested going under so she could have the sensation of the open sky if she needed it, but Ariadne was reluctant. Arthur didn't ask why, and she wondered if he knew how Mal had gotten the idea about reality and limbo so confused in the first place. She didn't think she or Arthur would get lost in dreams, but she didn't want to take that chance.

"You think he's going to make a move."

"As much as you hate being trapped here, he's got to hate not knowing what you're up to," Arthur reasoned. He pushed the PASIV aside and cupped her face in his hand. His thumb traced the edge of her lip tenderly. "He will do something stupid, and then I'll have him. And he will _never_ threaten you again, never hurt you. I promise you."

The words should have been chilling, but Ariadne leaned into his touch and felt comforted by them. "I believe you," she told him. She reached out and touched his chest, feeling the solid strength of him. "You'll do whatever it takes."

"Absolutely."

It was a sacred promise, one that she knew he would move heaven and earth to fulfill. It almost made up for being trapped in his apartment.

She ran her hands down his abdomen and there was a slight smile on Arthur's face as her fingers brushed low across the front of his pants. He helped unzip his fly and she tugged his pants down to his ankles. Kneeling in front of him, Ariadne took him into her mouth and worked her tongue along his length as she cradled his balls with one hand. She held his hip with her other hand, kneading the flesh slightly as she bobbed her head over him. Arthur groaned and leaned back slightly, one hand cradling the back of her skull. He didn't push or hold her head there, which she appreciated. Ariadne could pull back to nip his cock lightly or tease the head with her tongue, making him hiss in pleasure.

"I wanna touch you," he groaned, giving her hair a light tug. He didn't beg, so this was as close as he would likely ever come.

Ariadne looked up from her kneeling position, a knowing and filthy grin on her face. His breath caught when he saw it, and Arthur crashed to his knees to kiss her mouth, hands tangled in her hair. Their tongues tangled together, and Arthur moved one hand from her hair to cup a breast, rolling his fingers over her nipple. Their clothes were completely shed in short order, and he brought her to his bed. Arthur's mouth closed over a breast, and he sucked greedily as his fingers sought her center to play with her folds. Ariadne ran her nails across his back, gasping and moaning. "I need you inside me," she moaned as she twisted beneath him. She was close, so close, and he kept teasing her and rubbing at her clit.

Once she came, Arthur went rooting in his bedside table for condoms. Tearing open the foil packet, he rolled it over his cock. Ariadne watched him avidly, licking her lips in anticipation. He slid deep inside of her then, and they fell into a rapid rhythm. He lasted a little longer this way, and Ariadne held him tightly after he came.

If he didn't figure out a way to identify or stop her stalker, Ariadne would remain hidden indefinitely. Times like this, she didn't mind at all.

***

Arthur returned to his apartment the next day with a grim expression and an envelope of photos to show her. Her house was in shambles, everything ripped apart and thrown around as if the intruder had been in a rage. It was one man who had done it, breaking in the front door. He didn't bother to cover his face as he tore through the house looking for Ariadne, screaming her name. When it was clear she wasn't there and hadn't been for some time, he had grown angry and began breaking things.

He had rope and a knife in his pockets. Ariadne didn't want to think of why, but Arthur's tightly compressed lips assured her that he was thinking along the same lines that she was.

"I recognize him," she said softly, pointing to one of the stills. "Henrik Cloutier. He works in the office, but on a different team than me. I haven't really interacted with him much, and especially not recently."

"You wouldn't have to, you know. Not with a stalker. The grand romance is in his mind, not in reality."

Considering their work in dream share, she was more aware than most how ideas in the mind could have such frightening intensity.

"So now what?"

"Depends on one thing," Arthur began slowly. He covered her hand in his. "Do you want to go through legitimate channels or not?"

"We can't," she said, looking at Arthur in concern. "Not if I ever plan to work again. Not if I'm ever to feel safe."

Arthur leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His hands were warm on her back, a light touch that reassured her that this was real and that she was safe. "We'll take care of it," he said softly. "Eames is pretty much done with what he needs to do. I know he'll help me."

Looking at him in concern, Ariadne frowned. "What are you going to do?"

"Better if you don't know. Plausible deniability."

Ariadne watched his face shut down. He loved her, and he would do this to help her. He wouldn't let her be involved, and it stung. "I'll help," she insisted. "You can't shut me up here forever. That's not much better than what he wanted to do to me," she pointed out. Her hand over his chest softened the impact of her words. "I know you want me to be safe and that you don't want him hurting me. But if I could be used as a ploy while you do what you need to do..."

"We wouldn't lure him out into the open," Arthur told her, closing his hand over hers. "We'd take him where he feels safe and make sure that he never leaves."

That told her everything and nothing at all.

"And where does that leave me?"

It was chilling to see the blank mask on Arthur's face. It was his professional mode, she knew, but she never thought to see it on his face when he looked at her. "Safe."

"I understand you want me safe," Ariadne began slowly. "But plausible deniability isn't good enough, Arthur. Maybe I won't be bait or anything like that, but I _need_ to be involved. You can't take that away from me." She couldn't see any change in the professional mask he wore, and she couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one. "We're equals, aren't we? You respect my autonomy?"

"That's the point of this. So you can get it back."

"You're taking it away from me, too," she told him flatly. Arthur flinched slightly, but otherwise didn't reply. "If we're equals, I do _something_ to assist. That is the only way what we have between us will work. I'd rather stay here with you in hiding than walk around and know there are too many secrets between us. If I give you everything I have, I want it all in return. I can't accept anything less."

There was an almost bleak expression on Arthur's face once his professional mask slipped. "I can't lose you, Ariadne. I _can't."_

Ariadne took his face in her hands and kissed his lips. He pulled her close, crushing her to his chest without a word. "We have to do this together, Arthur. You won't lose me then."

Neither spoke after that.

***

Eames arrived with Arthur the following day. Both men were subdued, and Eames took in the apartment with veiled interest. He settled in quickly as Arthur unrolled a copy of blueprints and weighted the edges so it would lie flat on his coffee table.

Ariadne looked up at both men and was startled to see them staring at her so intently. "What?"

"I happen to agree with you," Eames said without preamble. Arthur didn't look happy with the statement, but it meant a lot to her that Arthur was putting aside his own misgivings to respect her wishes. "You need to be a part of this. And whether or not you think you know anything about this fellow, you probably know something we can use."

"We're not using you as bait." Arthur's voice was tightly controlled, but Ariadne could see that it was where he drew the line.

"I'm perfectly okay with that. I just need to be involved." She reached out and grasped his hand without thinking, and of course Eames picked up on that. He thankfully didn't say anything; it wasn't just Ariadne's imagination, but he seemed to look at Arthur in understanding.

"Our plan was to corner him at home, when he isn't expecting anything," Arthur said, pointing to the blueprints. "I was looking at these from a security angle."

Ariadne looked at them a little more closely. "Well, this would only show whatever was included when the building was built, whatever updates were filed with the city. This of course wouldn't cover any additions he would have made on his own. If he's a paranoid stalker type, wouldn't he have made modifications?"

Eames grinned at her appreciatively. "Yes, but you forget, darling. We're professional stalkers ourselves, and he is far from professional."

It was startling to hear of it in those terms, but Ariadne supposed it was true. They shadowed subjects and knew all about them prior to a job and sometimes had to break into their homes and violate their security. "So what have you found so far?" she asked evenly.

She listened attentively as more photos were pulled out from their surreptitious surveys of his home while he was at work. Arthur and Eames had built up surveillance over the past week and a half. Ariadne hadn't kept good track of time while staying with Arthur, so it surprised her to see a meticulously detailed schedule of Cloutier's movements. The best place to get him would be at his apartment, and he was a loner. People wouldn't notice he was missing right away, and Ariadne had already been out of work for the prior three weeks, which was a sobering thought. A month of not being able to work, of feeling utterly trapped and helpless. No wonder she felt so antsy. She wasn't used to being idle for so long.

"Would it slow him down to have me waiting for him in the apartment when he gets home from work?" Ariadne asked slowly. "You'd be there, of course," she added quickly for Arthur's benefit, "but seeing me would probably distract him enough that he won't notice either of you there." She looked at the layout frowning, pointing at the way the foyer and living room were arranged on the blueprint. "This bottleneck is going to be a problem, though."

"It's a calculated risk," Eames conceded before Arthur could immediately protest. He pointed at the configuration of the apartment. "The front door opens this way, into the main living area. If you stand just here," he said, tapping the opposite corner of the living area, "we'd stand here and here." He indicated the areas to the side of the foyer. "We'd have to be close by so that once he got far enough into his apartment, we'd have easy access to him and take him out before he can even touch you. If we were hiding in a different room of the apartment, we'd lose precious time rushing in."

"With Cloutier's height, I'd estimate that it would take him perhaps seven or eight steps for him to clear the entrance and enter the living room," Arthur said.

Eames contemplated that and looked from Arthur to Ariadne. "We knock out the lamp in the entrance way, keep the others off in the living room. There's bound to be one light we can turn on next to you to highlight you, and then he won't think to look for us."

Arthur's jaw was tight and unhappy, since there were so many things that could go wrong with this plan. "How is your self defense, in case we can't contain him?"

"I'm short and lived alone. I know the basics," she said pointedly. "I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say you were. But he'll be fighting for his life."

"So am I."

Eames watched the byplay quietly. "Any holes in this revised plan you can think of, Arthur?" he asked, indicating the blueprints. Arthur was the security expert, after all. He was skilled at hand to hand combat, otherwise they never would have had Ariadne stay with him.

"We'll make it work," he said grimly.

***

Cloutier's apartment had heavy furniture in dark woods and upholstery in dark solid colors. Ariadne felt tiny and sacrificial as she stood in his living room; only Arthur and Eames standing across from her helped her feel safe. They were dressed in dark clothes with black trench coats over their suits, which Ariadne at first found odd. Some part of her wondered if she should have really fought to do this, or if she should have stayed behind as Arthur wanted her to do. That wasn't her character, however; she had always been more take charge, sometimes without thinking of all of the consequences. This would be one of those times, certainly, but she would have resented staying behind, too.

There was the sound of a key turning in the lock. Ariadne tensed slightly, and both Eames and Arthur were alert. They had their weapons in hand, and there was that grim determination on both of their faces that told her Cloutier was most definitely not going to survive the evening.

Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry about that.

Cloutier was a heavyset man with dark hair and small eyes behind thick glasses. It gave him an almost absentminded air, but he was whip smart and obsessive. He froze in the hallway when he saw her, the door clicking shut behind him. He wasn't quite in reach of the two men lying in wait, and it was too dark for her to really make out his expression. "Ariadne."

"Hello," she said in a level tone of voice. She was proud of herself for not showing her fear, though she could feel the adrenaline start to course through her.

Fight or flight, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him control her.

"You've been missing," he said, taking a step forward. "I looked everywhere." He took another step forward, uncertain. "Why did you run?"

"Why have you been looking for me?" she challenged.

"You know why," he said, voice tight. "Don't pretend you don't know why."

"Maybe I want to hear you say it."

He stepped forward again, but he wasn't quite where they needed him to be. She could see his face now, the tension and the crazed look of adoration in his eyes. "I love you, Ariadne. I've always loved you. You love me. That's why you're here, isn't it? You know you belong with me."

"Come here," Ariadne said softly, hating herself for even pushing out the syllables. She didn't want him anywhere near her, but he needed to be farther away from the door.

The moment he moved, they pounced. Cloutier never knew what hit him.

Ariadne could barely track how fast they moved. Eames struck Cloutier in the back as Arthur pistolwhipped him in the throat. He sank down to his knees, unable to breathe. Eames had his USP Compact pressed up against Cloutier's spine as Arthur moved forward. Ariadne hadn't noticed the silencer screwed onto the barrel of Arthur's Glock before, but there it was. "You're not going to hurt her," he said in a low tone, tension and anger bleeding through. "You will _never_ hurt anyone ever again."

And then before Cloutier could even speak, Arthur pulled the trigger.

Clasping her hands over her mouth to muffle her gasp of shock, Ariadne stared in wide eyed horror as Cloutier's head exploded in a shower of blood and brain from the 9 mm bullet at point blank range. She had never watched a man die in real life before; projections tended not to bleed that much, and bullets merely made them drop to the ground. This was messy and ugly, something that made her want to throw up.

Arthur unscrewed the silencer, lips set in a firm line, and he put the Glock back in his shoulder rig beneath his suit jacket. The USP Compact disappeared back under Eames' coat. "You didn't need me here for this," he commented idly.

"I suppose not, but I wanted to be sure," Arthur replied. Eames and Arthur calmly took off the trench coats, which were spattered in blood. Eames collected the trench coats and put them into a plastic garbage bag he had put in his pants pocket, not looking perturbed in the slightest.

Arthur came up to Ariadne immediately, eyes soft and his hands gentle as they rubbed her arms. "Hey, Ariadne. You're okay. You're okay."

It was ridiculous to hear, yet it felt comforting as well. She let him fold her against his chest, her breathing unsteady. She knew why he had wanted her to stay behind, but she _needed to see this._ He probably didn't understand it, but this death was her responsibility. The least she could do was be present and part of it in some way.

"Let's go home," she murmured, holding onto him tightly.

No one commented on her word choice, even though it was clear that she meant Arthur's apartment. He merely nodded and led her out of Cloutier's living room. Eames disappeared into the night with the evidence, and Arthur took Ariadne home with him. He simply held her that night as she trembled in his arms. Ariadne was free, but it came at a cost she didn't like to think about. Arthur didn't make light of it or her reaction, and he didn't insult her intelligence by trying to minimize its importance. They both knew that he would make the same choice again if he had the chance to redo it; there would never be a question about his choosing her life over Cloutier's.

Neither slept well that night.

 

The End


End file.
